


A Toast to Dead and Absent Friends

by misura



Category: Dragaera - Steven Brust
Genre: Book: Phoenix, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-21
Updated: 2007-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kragar gets drunk and Morrolan stays (mostly) polite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Toast to Dead and Absent Friends

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _death_ (over at dragaera_100, although needless to say, this is not a drabble)

Getting drunk at Castle Black was, Kragar decided, probably not a good idea. However, considering that he had already emptied several bottles of wine - and excellent wine it had been, too; Morrolan deserved some credit for that at least - it was a little too late to take his own advice. On top of that, Kragar rather felt that if Morrolan would take offense at his getting drunk, then Morrolan could simply have agreed to see him at once, instead of making him wait for several hours.

Morrolan's note had been quite explicit, using words like 'promptly' and 'this very day' and hinting at painful and potentially lethal consequences if Kragar were to show up with anything less than the utmost hurry. Under other circumstances, Kragar might still have been inclinded to ignore it, but at present, pissing off one of the most powerful Dragonlords in the Empire hadn't seemed like such a bright course of action. It wasn't that Kragar was _scared_ , it was simply that he prefered to keep his vital organs where they were (i.e. inside his body) and his soul outside of a Great Weapon.

On top of that, Morrolan had been a friend of Vlad's, or as close as someone like Morrolan could come to being a friend of someone like Vlad. Read in a certain light, the offensive note might simply imply an understandable amount of concern about Vlad. Thus, Kragar had felt that there was just the teensiest tiny chance that Morrolan actually wished to offer him his help. Unlikely, true, but not wholly impossible. Or so Kragar had thought a good ten hours ago.

Now, Kragar wasn't entirely sure what Morrolan wanted to see him about anymore, but he did feel reasonably justified in assuming that it wouldn't be for any matter that would benefit him. The only friendly look he'd gotten so far had been from Lady Teldra, who'd also inquired about Vlad with what seemed to be genuine worry. However, since she was an Issola, she obviously didn't count.

Kragar supposed that in theory, something more important than seeing him might have come up. In theory, Morrolan might have meant to see him right away, only have been kept from doing so by some urgent, pressing problem that demanded his personal attention. Kragar drained his glass and pondered this possibility. After he had done so, he felt in need of another bottle of wine, as well as a reassurance that, actually, Morrolan was just a typical bastard of a Dragonlord without any respect for Jhereg.

After all, if the Castle had really been about to fall down, surely Morrolan would have informed his other, more important guests of this? Nobody in the Great Hall seemed the least bit concerned though, chatting and drinking merrily, occasionally sparing a glance or glare for Kragar. If he'd still been a Dragon, Kragar had little doubt that he could have gotten at least five duels out of this, but since he was 'merely' a Jhereg, he limited himself to a friendly smile and nod. It was a defense he'd witnessed Vlad use rather often, and with surprising effectiveness. It worked less well for him, possibly because he wasn't a short Easterner who was rumored to be good friends with both Aliera e'Kieron and the Dragon Heir to the Throne.

Kragar sighed and poured himself another glass of wine. The harsh truth was that he simply wasn't used to this level of hostility anymore. On a one-on-one level, sure. That was what you got for being a Jhereg. However, in crowds, he usually simply blended in, encouraging people not to notice anything more about him than the mere fact that he was there, and that they therefore couldn't walk through the space that he occupied. Besides, when was the last time he'd been in one room with this many Dragonlords? The only good thing was that none of them would stab him in the back when he'd leave.

Not that any of them would lift one finger to help him if someone with a little less honor would show up to try to do exactly that. Vlad had seemed pretty sure that it wouldn't come to that, that they'd only be after him, personally, but Kragar wasn't so sure. He didn't really think they'd choose Castle Black as the location to try anything - that thing with Mellar had been an exception, and no matter how badly they might want to finish off Vlad, Kragar didn't think he himself made for quite such a big target.

Still, he'd made mistakes before. One of his more serious ones was the reason why he was looking for a reliable new secretary now, instead of still having a familiar face around to remind him of the good old days when his office had been Vlad's, and when he hadn't needed to play leader to a bunch of idiots whose intelligence just about equalled that of a particularly smart Dzurlord.

Kragar felt that his coming here and patiently wait for Morrolan to get around to seeing him might well turn out to be another one. Vlad would have never put up with this. Vlad would never have had to. That was life and fairness for you.

The more he thought about it, the better his idea of getting drunk began to sound. What did he care if Morrolan wouldn't like it? Obviously, Morrolan couldn't care less about what he, Kragar, liked. The wine was good, the company was lousy - hence, he was almost obliged to make the most of the wine. Maybe if he got drunk enough, the company would start to look a little less lousy, too, a little more fuzzy around the edges. Kragar nodded to himself and reached for a new bottle, obligingly provided by the servants who plainly didn't like his being there any better than Morrolan's guests.

"You are drunk." Looking up to find a Dragonlord frowning at him from the other end of the table might have unnerved Kragar a lot more if he'd been sober. As it was, he merely felt a slight annoyance at Morrolan having deigned to come and see him before he was good and well and truly drunk.

"Good evening to you, too." Kragar inclined his head in a mocking gesture of respect. Opportunities to remind a Dragonlord about his honor and manners were rare, and not to be missed. "Funny, but when you wrote you wanted to see me right away, I figured your business with me was urgent."

Morrolan's frown deepened. Kragar would have liked to believe it was because his little barb had hit home, but it was hard to tell. "You were mistaken, then," Morrolan said, with a slight shrug that conveyed a number of insults that no Dragon would ever have put up with.

"Yeah, I seem to be doing that a lot." Kragar pretended not to notice Morrolan's glass as he provided himself with another drink. As an insult, it was rather petty and childish, but Kragar felt he could be forgiven for not being as sharp as he might be when fully awake and sober anymore.

"Oh?" Morrolan raised one eyebrow in a show of polite interest. Kragar was willing to bet Morrolan was actually looking forward to hearing all about his mistake, possibly to have something amusing to pass along to his cousin. 

"There was ... a man," Kragar began, absently noting he was much more drunk than he'd thought. "No names, okay? Just ... someone. A friend of mine, and also one of Vlad's, or so I thought. Had been with us for ages - well, years anyway. The three of us, him, me and Vlad, we built things up together. He saved Vlad's life several times, and I saved his a couple of times. We went to have a drink sometimes."

"As you said: he was a friend of yours," Morrolan commented, sounding more serious than Kragar would have expected him to. He wondered if he had imagined Morrolan's slight emphasis on the word 'was'.

"Yes. A friend. A good friend. Probably the best friend I had." Kragar chewed his lower lip. "Well, I mean, Vlad and me were close, too, but he wasn't ..."

"Dragaeran," Morrolan supplied. Later, Kragar would wonder why Morrolan had chosen to use that particular word, rather than 'human'. "And you'd known him longer than you'd known Vlad."

Kragar tried to recall if he'd mentioned that. He couldn't remember it, and yet, since Morrolan had brought it up, he had to have. "Yeah. That, too. I liked him, I guess. A decent guy, I used to think." Kragar looked at Morrolan, waiting for a comment to the effect that no Jhereg could be described as being 'decent'. Morrolan kept quiet, instead serving himself and Kragar another drink.

"Still, I killed him." Kragar sipped his wine. It seemed perfectly normal. Perhaps Morrolan had simply meant to insult Kragar by performing a task for him that Kragar himself had not performed for Morrolan. If so, Kragar feared the insult was too subtle for him. "I saw him drawing on Vlad, and I just killed him. I didn't even hesitate."

"It is well that you didn't," Morrolan said. "Otherwise, we would not have been sitting here, having this conversation, because Vlad would have been dead, and you would have been wishing you were." The smile he offered Kragar was not, in any way, friendly.

"Oh, shut up!" Kragar found himself feeling very tired all of a sudden. "You don't even get it, do you? He was my friend!"

"As was Vlad," Morrolan pointed out.

"That's not the point!" Kragar shook his head. It made him feel less sleepy, mostly because of the way his head felt like it might explode if he moved it again too suddenly. "The point is that he was my friend, and that I killed him without thinking twice about it! A man whom I called my friend is dead, and do you know, that's not even what bothers me the most. It should, but it isn't."

"You are, in other words," Morrolan said, "bothered because you are not bothered by his death."

"That's a lousy way to put it," Kragar said.

"But, essentially, correct," Morrolan replied.

Kragar sighed. He supposed that he couldn't honestly blame Morrolan for not understanding. It would be like blaming a jhereg for being poisonous, or a dzur for preying on a norska. To Morrolan, there simply wasn't such a thing as 'guilt'. There was only 'honor'.

"It bothers me that I didn't stop to consider. I might just have knocked him out, you know. He hadn't spotted me. I didn't have to kill him, but I did." Well, okay, once he'd tried to draw on Vlad, Melestav had been as good as dead, really. Years of loyal service or not, you just couldn't let one of your employees get away with trying to kill you.

"You noticed a threat, and you didn't hesitate to eliminate it." Morrolan studied Kragar with a pensive expression on his face. "Perhaps you still are a Dragon, after all."

Kragar swallowed several sarcastic comments he could have made to that.

"You can spend the night in one of the guestrooms," Morrolan said, rising to indicate he considered their conversation to be finished. "It would be ill-advised to attempt a teleport in your state, and there still are certain subjects I wish to discuss with you. Thus, I bid you a good night."

Lady Teldra seemingly appeared out of nowhere, smilingly assuring Kragar that she was as delighted as the Lord Morrolan that Kragar would stay a while longer. Before he fell asleep, Kragar reflected that that probably was the first time he'd ever caught Lady Teldra in a lie.


End file.
